


So You Want to Build a Sex Machine

by levendis



Series: Prompt Fics [103]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bananas, Comedy, F/M, Fucking Machines, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levendis/pseuds/levendis
Summary: Here’s what you’ll need.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for anon, who prompted: 12 builds an inspector gadget style dildo/sex toy machine thing.

**1.**

Considerations: materials, feasibility, semantics, ethics, use-case scenarios, mechanics both internal and external. The fulfillment of desire, what ‘want’ means; how to create it, or find it; friction. _Erotic_ as a poorly-translated word from a language you do not speak and that your ship will not speak on your behalf.

 

**2.**

Google searches:

  1. sexual requirements of the average human
  2. sexual requirements of the unusual human
  3. sex toy personality quiz
  4. Metallica
  5. how can i know what she wants without asking what she wants



**3.** _  
_

The three ‘R’s: Research, Research, Research. _  
_

3A _  
_

> An hour spent watching videos of anonymous amateur fucking and masturbation.

3B

> Two minutes spent with your hand wrapped experimentally around what you’d let someone assume was a cock, if anyone were around to notice. Three minutes with your right thumb pressed into the spot just below your rib cage, where your key is still lodged. You feel nothing, and an aching empty sort of wrongness, in that order.

3C

> Five hours spent watching videos of people unboxing new dildo shipments. It’s satisfying, watching them crack open the packaging and methodically assess the contents,

 

**4.**

Plans. I know it seems weird, to plan ahead of time, but trust me on this.

_Four-One_

Two mood boards, one on the ship - in a private room tucked far away - with magazine clippings taped to a dry erase board, and one on Pinterest that is followed immediately by a user named KinkyDave17. Hey there, Kinky Dave.

_Four-Two_

Fifty rough concept sketches, loose and easy. One drawing of Mr. Blobby holding a sign reading “There is no such thing as ethical consumption under capitalism” (it’d seemed funny at the time). Ten selected and elaborated upon; five chosen and explored with attention to detail. Four mugs of tea, two of which are immediately forgotten and eventually absorbed back into the timestuff of the ship.

_Four-Three_

One sketch, and fifty variations. The implication and execution of multiple penetrative devices. Orifices, modularity. Texture, color, the minutiae of hydraulics. Desire diagrammed. Both mood boards gradually evolve into evidence that Sammy Hagar is a fixed event in time and space. The Pinterest board is immediately followed by GuitarDave1975. Hey, Guitar Dave.

_Four-Four_

One variation, ten life-size mock-ups. Cannibalize parts from automobiles and electric pianos. Use similarly-shaped objects as stand-ins for dildos. Create a Catherine wheel of bananas. Remember, belatedly, that that’s probably not how sex works. Take a mental note of the texture and firmness of the bananas anyway. Eat one. Eat four more, and regret it instantly. Thrust, vibration, pressure, response, haptic feedback and precision stimulation. Turn the motor on and watch it spin as you eat a sixth banana.

 

**5.**

On the mood board in your ship, tape a picture of her over Sammy Hagar so it looks she has Sammy Hagar’s body, or that Sammy Hagar has her face. Resist the sudden impulse to punch the dry erase board. Resist the constant impulse to do something sentimental. Do it anyway. Say something that pretends to be mean, like _your human pastimes are ridiculous at best_ or _it’s just an interesting engineering problem, that’s all._ Touch the picture of her face, or Sammy Hagar’s face, touch the picture of the face gently and try to think positively about the ten failed attempts littering the room. Eleven, the eleven failed attempts. Or is it twelve, now?

 

**6.**

Immediately realize it’s been Eddie Van Halen all along. Spend an hour arguing in the comments section of a YouTube video with a user named, simply, Dave. We meet again, Dave.

 

**7.**

Punch the whiteboard, delete the Pinterest account. Sit down on the middle of the floor with a cup of tea. Make a mental list of all the times you can recall her making a face or a noise or a motion, an indication that there was something in her body you only partially recognize:

  * When you’d had your hand inside her, knuckle-deep, fingers crooked
  * The time it took for the red mark to show after you bit the skin on her neck, just under her ear 
  * Not sure but it was a Tuesday local time and you were on your knees 



  
**8.**

_why not ask her,_ Dave will type. _or just fuck her lol_. Pause. Type back, _shut it you sorry excuse for an internet avatar i never liked you anyway._ Turn off your personal computation device with a degree of petty, misdirected anger. You will still be on the floor, at this point. Stretch your legs out and then lay down and press the palm of your right hand to the spot just under your rib cage where your key still is, where it’ll always be, where it’s throbbed inside you since before you left home.

 

**9.**

Ask her. Ask her, ask her, stammering and fumbling. Make sure it’s a Tuesday local time. You aren’t on your knees but you might as well be. Ask her what she wants.

And she’ll say, _you_ , and she’ll laugh, but not in a mean-spirited way. Pull out your diagrams, your lists from your pockets. Put them back.

Say _No, I mean specifically, in terms of the specific thing._ Make a gesture that implies fucking and also hopefully how you understand and accept and regret your inadequacy in this area.

_You_ , she’ll say again.

But for when you’re not there, or you’re there and you can’t, or you can but you’re not enough. What does she want? What’s better than you, what’s the ideal?

_Don’t you get it yet?_ she’ll ask.

From here, futures splinter. It could go any way, there is a near-infinite set of possibilities. But if you take her hand and stay, it’ll be one of the good ones.

 

**10.**

Let her lead you to her bedroom on the ship, where she feels safe. Let her hold you. Admit you spent the better part of two days, local time, inventing her a sex machine. She’ll roll her eyes and say _I’ve got it covered, but thanks_ _I guess_ , gesturing to her proudly-displayed collection of dildos and vibrators and a fair few things you’ve never even seen before, despite at least three Googles. You nod and feel a certain awe come over you.

 

**11.**

Guide her hand to your belly, the spot just below your rib cage. Feel your key move inside you. Try not to cry. 

Go down on your knees; it worked once before.

 

**12.**

Later, return to the Van Halen fan forum and ask Dave if he’s David Lee Roth, and if so, is he a fixed temporal event. He won’t respond.


End file.
